


Looking (Thommy III)

by causeimdifferent



Series: Thommy [3]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:18:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeimdifferent/pseuds/causeimdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of 'the incident' and only escaping an arrest by a hair's breadth, Thomas withdraws within himself and goes out of his way not to get into Jimmy's. And Jimmy is not happy. Not happy at all.</p><p>'Thomas moved away, just a few inches, inconspicuously but noticeable enough. "You needn't do that", Jimmy said quietly, slowly turning towards Thomas, who showed no reaction. "It's not like you make me uncomfortable or anything. Really, it is not neccessary to keep such a distance." They stood in silence for a while, just like that.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking (Thommy III)

**Author's Note:**

> Part III to
> 
> Part I"Your Tears Are not my Business" and Part II "Covering Up"
> 
> There is also a Part IV waiting for ya (link at the end of this part)

The packet of cigarettes he'd just fumbled from his trouser pocket slipped from Thomas's fingers and fell to the ground. Thomas had escaped an arrest by a hair's breadth only minutes ago and he was flustered. Jimmy knew, he should look away.

But Jimmy took way too much pleasure in looking at Thomas to give it up lightly. And he only realized it the moment he decided it was probably better not to look at Mr. Barrow anymore.

Mr. Barrow sat on a tree log in the shade by himself. Jimmy pretended not to be interested in Mr. Barrow by pretending to listen to Mr. Molesley trying to explain his utter failure at the cricket match. Thomas appeared grey and exhausted. No wonder. If Jimmy hadn't lied to the police Thomas would be on his way to the clink this very moment. Jimmy was startled by his sudden impulse to walk over to put his hand on Thomas's shoulder. Not so much to comfort him. But to feel the firmness and warmth of Thomas's body against his palm. To feel that he was still here. Not on his way to India never to be seen again. Not on his way to jail.

Jimmy was ridiculously glad that Thomas was still around to be looked at.

He would have missed him terribly.

 

But walking over and talking and - Heaven forbid - touching was out of the question. As was any more looking. No more marveling at Thomas's glossy hair, his nonchalant way of exhaling smoke or taking a drag on his cigarette, his goddamn fucking handsome face and body and ... everything. Heck, seriously: No. More. Watching. No more anything Thomas. No one, NO ONE should ever dare think, Jimmy was interested in Mr. Barrow in _that_ way. That he was not a proper man. Least of all himself.

Thomas picked up the packet. He clumsily produced a cigarette and put it between his lips. But instead of lighting it he stared to the ground absent-minded, the cigarette dangling forgotten from the corner of his mouth. Slowly he lifted his head and even though Jimmy should have known, what was coming, it took him by surprise: Mr. Barrow looked up - and stared Jimmy straight in the face by accident.

A jolt went through Jimmy, as their eyes locked for a second. Both equally startled. _Damn. Idiot._ Jimmy turned his head back to Molesley but wasn't satisfied. Suspecting Thomas's glance still on him he decided to better walk out of his sight. Or at least farther away to find Ivy, even though he knew nothing to say to her. But somehow interacting with Ivy held the illusion to Jimmy to undo any interaction between him and Mr. Barrow.

When he stood in front of Ivy, less unable than unwilling to follow her chatter, he repeated to himself silently, as if he might forget otherwise : _You better keep Mr. Barrow at arm's length for everyone to see from now on._

 

Which turned out to be entirely unneccessary, as Mr. Barrow did not intend go anywhere near Jimmy Kent. In fact he went out of his way meticulously not to get into Jimmy's: Mr. Barrow took care not to sit beside Jimmy, not to stand close to Jimmy, not to look at Jimmy unless absolutely necessary and not to talk to Jimmy except about professional matters. Very briefly Jimmy was relieved. But quickly Mr. Barrow keeping this exaggerated distance irritated and confused him. Did Mr. Barrow worry Jimmy'd find his closeness revolting or did he not like him anymore? And ultimately things as they now were, increasingly made Jimmy sad.

Jimmy missed having Mr. Barrow close. He missed sitting beside Mr. Barrow, he missed standing so close to him that their bodies touched and that he could see the freckles on his porcelain skin. And a hint of five o'clock shadow at the end of the day. Jimmy missed chatting to him over a cup of tea in the servants' hall after a long workday. He missed Thomas being snarky and smiling at Jimmy's silly remarks at the breakfast table.

Oh how Jimmy missed that smile. Thomas's 'Jimmy smile'. Only now that it was gone, did Jimmy truly realize how bloody much it had brightened his days before. Now only Ivy smiled at Jimmy. But Jimmy didn't give a damn about her smile. Or any other smile but Thomas's. But Thomas's smile had disappeared.

 

So even though Thomas was still at Downton to be looked at, Jimmy came to miss him terribly after all. Thomas seemed to be far away. Gone almost. As if just his body had stayed while his soul had indeed traveled to America or to India or wherever else.

Thomas did his work and kept to himself. The whole _incident_ (as Jimmy came to refer to Mr. Barrow making that nightly move on him) and its aftermath seemed to have shaken him to the core. _Come back_ , Jimmy thought, one morning at the breakfast table when he sneaked one of his rare peeks at the under-butler. Hiding behind his pale mask, the shadows under his cheekbones more pronounced than ever, his jaw line more distinct. Thomas seemed to have lost his appetite for everything. Jimmy on the other hand was hungry. Hungry for connection. For Thomas's attention. _Come back to life._

Jimmy's hunger had nothing to do with improper things. Nothing to do with the kind of things that Thomas had had in mind when making a move on Jimmy. Jimmy felt lonely. No more, no less. Simple as that. Quite terribly lonely, in fact. With Alfred obsessing about Ivy and Ivy obsessing about Jimmy, and Daisy obsessing about Alfred. They and their obsessions just didn't interest Jimmy one bit. The only person who truly interested him was Thomas. Jimmy wondered which books he'd been reading, he wanted to discuss newspaper articles with him, he wanted to ask for his brand of aftershave after all, he wanted to know what he did on his half days. And Jimmy wanted to know, even though he'd never disclose that to anyone, if Mr. Barrow still felt drawn to him or if there was someone else by now. And if there was someone else, what was going on exactly between Mr. Barrow and that someone else.

 

But Jimmy remained mum. It would not have been proper to start talking to Mr. Barrow again, would it? Everyone would become suspicious. Right? "People would think you weren't disgusted at all." O'Brien's words still stuck. It could not be helped, could it? Jimmy would not be friends with Mr. Barrow again, ever. There was no way back. Maybe being lonely was part of being grown-up. Maybe it was part of being a proper man.

Still Jimmy hadn't been disgusted. Furious and startled, yes. And also a bit scared, even if he didn't want to admit that to himself. But not disgusted. However much he tried. He hadn't been disgusted. Sometimes he wished rather to be happy than being a proper man. Thoughts like that kept Jimmy awake at night, increasingly. Once they even made him cry.

He pressed "The 39 Steps" against his chest feeling entirely ridiculous and sobbed as silently as possible. For the first time in a long while. The book reminded him of the fact that Thomas felt lonely, too. Knowing that he was not alone with feeling lonely offered Jimmy consolation. And especially looking at that one particular underlined passage. Following the pencil marks along with the tip of his index finger made him feel closer to Mr. Barrow and long for him even more. Then again Jimmy considered throwing the book into the fire after all. But he knew it would not solve a thing – and that he'd regret it bitterly. It was all he had left of Mr. Barrow, that he could actually touch.

In the silence of those sleepless nights Jimmy considered countless ways to strike up a conversation. Only to come to the same conclusion over and over again: that it would be inappropriate to do so. And that things were best as they were.

Which of course they weren't.

It was hard to find sleep. Knowing that Mr. Barrow – Thomas - was lying in his room a mere few steps away and still entirely out of reach. One night, Jimmy walked downstairs into the kitchen for a strong cup of tea to help him wind down. It worked.

And so it became a habit.

 

As Jimmy's solitary tea times took place in the dead of night he had to light the stove to get hot water. And he had to clean it out afterwards not to make Ms. Patmore suspicious. The kitchen was her territory. And when the kettle had cooled off there was no more hot water until the next morning. At least not for the likes of Jimmy.

He had almost finished removing the ash into a bucket. His steaming cup of tea exuding this aroma that gave Jimmy a cozy feeling by default.

"Oh, I didn't know someone was here." Jimmy shot round. Mr. Barrow of all people was standing in the doorframe. In his dressing gown and pajamas, his hair ruffled. Thomas made a tiny movement as if to leave again. _Damn,_ _don't be ridiculous._ "There's hot water", Jimmy said, startled at his spontaneity, "If ... if you want tea, that is." Thomas hesitated. "You boiled a kettle?" "Uh-huh", Jimmy mumbled, straightening up, finished with his task. "Should be enough left for a cup at least." He wiped traces of grime off his hands on his pajama pants. "Oh." Thomas just said and stepped into the kitchen reluctantly. The top buttons of his pajama jacket were open to reveal a whiff of dark chest hair. As he collected a cup and prepared his tea he avoided to look at Jimmy as usual but Jimmy could not care less about not looking at Thomas. They were alone, no one would notice.

 

Jimmy expected Thomas to take his leave as soon as he had his cup in hand. But surprisingly Thomas decided to linger, leaning against the counter beside the stove to stare into his tea. With Jimmy still standing about in front of the stove they stood closer together than they ever had since that fateful night. And even if they did not touch, Jimmy felt the side of his body directed towards Thomas grow warm, hot almost. Thomas moved away, just a few inches, inconspicuously but noticeable enough. "You needn't do that", Jimmy said quietly, slowly turning towards Thomas, who showed no reaction. "It's not like you make me uncomfortable or anything. Really, it is not neccessary to keep such a distance." They stood in silence for a while, just like that.

"I better go back ..." Thomas finally said and put the cup on the counter behind him. "Well, good night then", he mumbled.

"D-Do you maybe have a book for me. Something really boring. That would help make me fall asleep?" Jimmy asked hastily. Too hastily, perhaps. Thomas seemed almost startled, then got a grip and with a hint of a smile he replied: "Well, I try to avoid the boring ones. But maybe I find something that bores you ... Something without marked passages." "Oh, I don't mind the marked passages", Jimmy said. _In fact I'd love a book with lots of marked passages, Mr. Barrow_ , flashed through his head. Not that that would make him sleepy anytime soon. A marked book was like a peek into Thomas's head. And for some reason the prospect made Jimmy rather perky.

"I'll ... I'll have a look and see what I can find. I'll just leave it in front of your door." "Yes", Jimmy said, trying not to sound too friendly, "if it's ... not a bother." "It's not a bother", Thomas said quietly. _Fuck, stop looking around me when you're talking to me._ "You know what?", Jimmy decided, "I'll rather go upstairs as well. Makes more sense if I have a look at your bookshelf myself – if you don't mind." Thomas sounded disconcerted: "Um – I don't think that's a good idea." _He really thinks it inappropriate for me to go into his room._ "Why?" Jimmy ventured, "I don't care if you got a bit of a mess up there." Thomas managed a sad smile. "No mess", he said, "but ... I doubt either of us would want anyone find you in my bedroom at night." Jimmy just glared. "People like to talk, you know", Thomas continued, "especially when there is nothing to talk about. And it wouldn't be good for either of us." And again they fell quiet.

"You needn't have done that", Thomas broke the silence right at the point when Jimmy thought he couldn't take it any longer. "Huh? Jimmy was at a blank. "Lied to the police." "Oh", Jimmy said. " ... well ... you said you were sorry. And ... I would not have wanted to see you in jail, Mr. Barrow. That seemed way harsh", he stuttered. "That's ... good to know, Jimmy. I mean, that you don't ... I was worried ... I even considered leaving Downton for a while. I still do, actually."

"Leaving Downton?" Jimmy blurted out. Thomas nodded slowly. "No one knows yet, but I ... I do have an interview in a couple of days ... " "What?!" "Shshsh, you wake up the whole house", Mr. Barrow lifted his hands appeasingly. "No one knows about it and no one will unless I decide to hand in my notice ..."  "Is it likely?", Jimmy ventured, failing utterly to sound casual. "That you leave, I mean?" Thomas rubbed his neck: "Well ... it is not unlikely. I'd be butler. In a house as big as this one. In London ... I've long been thinking I might be better off in the city after all ..." his voice trailed off, as if he just realized that giving his secret plans away might maybe not have been such a grand idea. "Well I better go back upstairs ..." "And I better wait until I follow, not for anyone to have second thoughts, right?" it broke out of Jimmy. His heart pounded. He was angry. And scared. _I don't want you to leave, Mr. Barrow._

 Thomas's eyes widened with surprise. "I'll go and find you a book", he said softly. Jimmy nodded. But Thomas didn't move."I don't mind you standing close as long as you don't think it means anyhing, alright?" Jimmy growled. "Of course it doesn't", Thomas pushed himself off of the counter.

"I'll go upstairs as well", Jimmy said and walked swiftly past Thomas towards the door. Yet in the doorframe he stopped abruptly and waited. Leaning against it, obstructing half of the passage. As Thomas came closer he looked at Jimmy expectantly to move on.

He'd have to squeeze himself past Jimmy who stood quite broadly in the doorframe –to avoid touching him while doing so. But Jimmy made no effort to move. _I don't want you to leave, Mr. Barrow. I absolutely do not want you to leave Downton Abbey._ "May I?", Thomas said finally. Jimmy needed to muster all he had to remain steadfast. As Mr. Barrow stepped closer, Jimmy could smell his aftershave, he could sense the heat of his body beneath his pajamas. And then Mr. Barrow stood in the doorframe as well. Face to face with Jimmy. Their bodies not quite touching, yet. Now Thomas did look at Jimmy. Straight. At last.

Somehow Jimmy gavitated towards Thomas, as if guided. Thomas closed his eyes with a sigh that seemed to come from deep within. "Jimmy, don't ..." Yet he stayed where he was, seemingly unable to move. Jimmy felt the tension leave Mr. Barrow's body as he ventured forward, desperate to connect. Thomas going all soft under his touch made him dizzy, as did his warmth and his scent. He pushed harder into him, needy, as if he wanted to merge with him. Thomas's body almost imprinted itself into Jimmy's: His chest, his stomach, his prick. Thomas flinched but could not step back with Jimmy locking his body against the doorframe. 

But Jimmy didn't mind the intimacy. On the contrary. He flung his arms around Thomas to draw him even closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck. It had been so long. So long that Jimmy had held another body dear to him so close. Only now that he felt the other man against himself did Jimmy grasp how intensely he'd been yearning for this all along.  Hesitantly Thomas folded his arms around Jimmy. "Jimmy, Jimmy, is everything alright?" he whispered, sounding breathless and bewildered. Jimmy just nodded.

 _Yes._ Right that instant everything was perfectly alright.

 

[The Story continues here: Convergence (Thommy IV)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1704821)

 

[Return to Part II: Covering Up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1597841)


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